I kiss her softly, pouring every ounce of concern and care into the slow, languid movements. I savor each second that ticks by, trying like hell to be the comfort she needs.
“I’m okay,” she whispers, her words shaky as she pulls back. She weaves her arms around me and buries her face in the side of my neck. “I swear I’m fine. It’s just the adrenaline. I’m rattled, that’s all.”
“You don’t have to hide it from me,” I remind her.
When she pulls away this time, the intense vulnerability painted on her face shocks me.
My lungs constrict. “I shouldn’t have brought you out here like this,” I gasp out.
Her eyes widen in objection. “I said I’m fine, and I meant it. I’ve survived way worse.”
I close my eyes and sigh. Don’t I know it.
“You can’t protect me from everything,” she adds, softer. “I already feel better. I just had to get over the initial shock.”
I sigh, trying like hell to accept that she’s right. I can’t protect her from everything, no matter how much that truth hurts.
“What now?” She nibbles on her bottom lip, arching back to look out the window. “Do we need to call a tow truck or—”
“I can get us out of this. If I can’t work the truck out in reverse, I’ll get out and push, and you can drive.”
Surprise dances over her face. “You’ll push us out? Easy as that?”
“I’ve done it before.” I shrug, downplaying the effort it would actually take. My back aches in anticipation of how sore I’ll be tomorrow if it comes to that.
Sawyer studies me, her face a few inches from mine. She’s stunning—up close, from afar. I’ll never get over how open she is. She feels deeply and expresses emotions in a way that’s disarmingly honest. Moments ago, she was terrified, then she was legitimately concerned. Now she looks awestruck, all because of me. It’s a privilege to have her in my arms—to have her in mylife.
I want to tell her as much. To put into words just how much she means.
I’m on the verge of taking the plunge and saying three words I’ve only ever uttered to one other woman.
But just like that, a switch is flipped.
Heat dances in her eyes, a mischievous smile turning up the corners of her lips.
I’m once again disarmed, and honestly mesmerized, as she arches back slightly and spreads her legs wider, giving me more of her weight.
“And here I thought maybe we were stranded,” she teases. “Stuck on the side of the road, just the two of us. I thought we’d have to keep each other warm in the truck, waiting on a tow.”
She doesn’t give me a chance to reply before she surges forward and captures my mouth. This kiss is more urgent—hot and needy, laced with lust and filled with promise.
She slips her tongue into my mouth as she presses her tits into my chest, and within seconds, her drugging kisses reduce me to all my base instincts.
I want her. Need her. I desire her so deeply it scares me.
I kiss the path of her jaw. I kiss what little skin I can find, since she’s bundled up.
She’s so soft. So warm and pliable and lovely and mine.
And when I suck on a sensitive spot below her ear, her hips roll forward, taunting me. So I do it again. And again.
Every time I latch on and suck, she presses forward, grinding against my lap in a hypnotic rhythm.
I thrust up to test my range, only to discover that in the confines of the front seat, I can’t give her nearly enough pressure or resistance.
She deserves everything.
“Fuck,” I grumble, accepting the reality of the situation and begrudgingly removing my mouth from her neck.
